Relic of the Western Woods
by LadySaxophone
Summary: Deep within the realm of Edmund's domain, lies a sacred and beloved relic...  *first Narnian fanfiction*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Narnia does not belong to me, and no matter how many times I've checked, it still hasn't popped up in my wardrobe either :P

_memories/thoughts_

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><p>He loves Narnia in the rain.<p>

In England, rain dampened colors, tinging everything with a dingy, dull gray. Narnia seems exempt from that aspect of rain. People in England used to mention a silver lining to gray clouds. Narnia actually has that, in the rain everything shimmers just the slightest bit.

Of course, Narnia is decidedly _not _exempt from other aspects of the rain and that is what Susan calls "catching a chill." If he doesn't get home before the true downpour, he knows he'll never hear the end of it. Still, he cannot help but leisurly pass through the Western Woods, the land bequethed to him by Aslan, himself. It is so alive with the sounds of the creatures turning in for the night. There's a fresh, new, clean smell to everything, and every tree's slightly tinged with the silver of the drizzling rain.

He wonders just how mad Susan will be, if he just takes the longer way back to the Cair, soaking himself a bit in the process. She'll probably fuss, but only because she loves him.

His horse guides him to a familiar clearing where he knows they'll pass the place where the fabled Stone Table lay in just a few short miles. He's never actually been to the Stone Table itself. He has Aslan to thank for that.

He wonders if there's any harm in stopping there, just for a moment. It's simply to remember the forgiveness he's been given. It's not as though he could ever forget, it's just a feeling that maybe he _should _stop there, to remember that he can never fall too far away.

It doesn't take long, he knows it's general location, and he stops and dismounts once he reaches it. A cracked, gray staircase leads up to a large gray slab of stone supported by four pillars.

It's broken. Right down the center.

As if pulled by an unseen force, he finds himself climbing the stairs to get a better look. It hasn't always been broken, he knows. You cannot sacrifice someone on a broken table. Those were the Witch's plans, so the Table must have broken afterwards. He's tempted to believe that Aslan broke the Table when the Witch asked for his blood.

_That boy will die, on the Stone Table, as is Tradition._

But something tells him that that isn't right. Without some sort of sacrifice, Narnia would have perished, "in fire and water" if he remembers aright. There had to be blood, or Narnia was doomed.

It isn't until he's climbed to the very top and approaches the stone in question that he sees it. A bloodstain marrs the left half of the broken table, and it's much too big for a human.

In fact, there's only one being he's met who is big enough to produce a blood stain that large.

_No. Oh no. Please, please no._

He already knows what happened, what transpired in this most sacred of places. But the wild frail hope that maybe, just maybe he's wrong is all that's left to sheild him from the pain of such an awful truth. He backs away from the relic as if it were a treacherous snake.

The rainstorm begins and the drops mix with his tears on the long ride home.

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><p>Hello there!<p>

So this is my first foray into a realm of fiction I have loved since I was seven years old. Oh, the nostalgia... Anyways, I was experimenting with present tense so please tell me how I did and whether or not you liked it. This story has been bouncing around in my head for nearly a year now, so I though I'd let it see the light of day...or more accurately, the artificial white light of my laptop:P

For those who have read my Star Wars fanfiction, I have not abandoned it and I'm not really taking a break. _To Save A Soul_ only requires one more chapter to be complete. Then I shall move onto other story ideas and a few new AUs :D

Again, I would absolutely love it if you reviewed. :) Have a lovely day!


	2. Chapter 2

Susan is the first to see Edmund. She'd been lounging in a most unQueen-like fashion on the armchair in the Sitting Room when he'd burst in. She jumps up, startled, a reprimand on her lips until she catches his eye.

She hasn't seen him look like that since he returned from the White Witch. He's drenched, his dark hair sticking to his too pale forehead. His eyes are red, bloodshot, and almost weary were it not for a desperate plea buried deep inside. She finds herself stammering as she regards her little brother, unsure of what to do.

"Susan," he mutters as though he half dreads what he's about to ask. And part of Susan _knows _what this is about, just somehow _knows _what he's going to say, but hopes desperately that she's wrong.

"Susan. Did Aslan..."

"Ed, please!" _Don't ask, don't wonder about it, you were never meant to know._

"He did, didn't he?" It's a quiet observation. Her brother drops her gaze and lowers his head.

"He took my place..." And just like that, all the work she, and Peter, and Lucy, and all of Narnia have been doing to get Edmund to forgive himself is destroyed. He's lost in guilt again and they're back at the beginning.

"You s_aw _it!" he yells suddenly, an angry, desperate light kindling in his eyes, finally more quietly he says "How can you even look at me knowing what I did?" he's backing away as if afraid of Susan trying to harm him.

"Edmund, you're my _brother..."_ She tries to close the distance but he just backs away.

He shakes his suddenly calm and quiet, effectively cutting her off, "I'm a traiter." And he leaves.

This is why she hadn't wanted him to ever find out. He's barely twelve, and he would feel like has to carry this burden all alone, he wouldn't think that he deserved their help.

But he won't bear it alone. She won't let him. Queen Susan lifts her chin.

"Peter!" she calls, "Lucy!"

XXXX

There's a giant mirror in his room, big enough to fit all the Pevensies' within it's intricate, golden frame. It shows him a small pale boy, with tear tracks and a silver crown atop drenched black locks. A traiter.

Without thinking, he smashes it. With a vase, with a stool, with his fists. He doesn't stop until he's standing in a pool of shards and blood from where he cut his fingers. His chest heaves with sobs and he sinks to his knees, heedless of the glass.

_Sleep_

A warm feeling spreads through his cold and tired limbs. A familiar comforting smell drifts through the air.

_Sleep, Edmund_

He's not sure if he really heard the deep voice or not, but with one last strangled sob, he obeys.

_Sleep, my son._

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><p>AN: Sorry, for the wait. Also, if any <em>To Save A Soul <em>readers are reading this, no, I haven't forgotten about it at all. I shall update fairly soon and there really is only one chapter left. Anyway, I was pretty worried about this chapter considering the level of angst I had to put in. So if you'd be so kind: please leave some feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

The earth thrums with potential energy, Edmund can feel it vibrating up through the dirt and into his veins. It's as if he's hearing a drum roll play before a symphony, a heart pounding before a battle. He can literally taste anticipation on the tip of his tounge, but for what, he doesn't know.

The landscape is lit with the grayish tint of an early morning, just giving off a hint of the sun to come. With a pang he realizes that he knows this landscape. There are the trees swaying in the slight breeze, the clearing filled with course green grass and dotted with small white flowers, the stones scattered haphazardly around the meadow as if dropped by some careless giant. He knows this place intimately although only there once before. This is the realm gifted to him by the One who died for him. This is the Great Western Wood, and the specific clearing wherein resides The Stone Table.

Edmund whirls around just as the sun rises.

Golden beams stretch out and embrace the world with radiance and warmth and _life._ The dingy, early morning pastels fade away to reveal the vibrant colors of Narnia, tinged slightly with the gold of the sun. The light carresses his face and causes him to shiver with delight. It's as if the earth's music has reached it's climax, it's ultimate crescendo. No world could ever be more beautiful, more radiant, than Narnia at this very moment.

And at the center of it all, shining like a beacon, like a sword in the dark, there's Aslan. He stands triumphantly; unimaginably strong and inexplicably beautiful. Compared to the brightness of The Lion, the land seems dingy and cold. Edmund can do nothing but stare.

Aslan gazes back at him, right into his face, his eyes alight with an exuberant joy and a deep indescribable love. It's something Edmund cannot understand or even bear. He doesn't deserve that love swimming in the liquid gold of Aslan's eyes, nor does he deserve the dazzling beauty of the land around him. He deserves the dull gray of winter, the sharp cold blue of the Ice. He drops his gaze.

The silence that engulfs him is so profound he can hear the paws of the Lion as He approaches, can feel the hot breath of Aslan as He stands before him.

"I'm...I'm s-sorry." He manages to get out between two muffled sobs building in his tight chest. The vision of the grass he's staring at blurs until it's just a watery mixture of green and gold.

"Son of Adam, why do you look away?" Aslan's beautiful voice is knowing, wise and gentle.

"I...I'm not worth it." And that's just it, isn't it? He betrayed everyone. He walked away from two beings who offered him food, warmth, and a path to greatness; and four people who've cared for him since birth. Deep down, he always knew the Witch was never kind or just. He knew she was cruel, and still he betrayed the location of his siblings for the promise of a kingdom and enchanted candy. He messed up. He messed up so bad that the most loving, caring, gentle, and noble being Edmund has ever met had to take his place in a humiliating death.

"Why do you think I did what I did, Edmund?" The question is for him. It's exactly what he's been struggling with ever since he saw the blood stain on The Stone Table. Why? Why would someone, the High King of all high kings, die for him?

"Look at me, Son of Adam." And not because he feels worthy to look at Aslan, not even because he thinks he'll find his answer there, but because his Savior asked him to, Edmund looks up.

The look Aslan is giving him is indescribable, he could lose himself in the golden depths. The Lion's stare pierces straight to his weary and sorrowing soul. The eyes hold the power of a ruler, the forgiveness of a father, and the gentleness of a dear friend.

But above all, there is love. A love that Edmund cannot comprehend, and therein lies his answer.

And he knows, in that moment, there is nothing else he could possibly have said but, "I love you, Aslan."

In a wave of overwhelming peace, all the torment; the guilt, the uncertainty, the horror, the grief, is swept away until Edmund feels whole, until the boy who was the redeemed Just King of Narnia creeps back into his soul. The Edmund who was resentful of his siblings and the Witch who would've kept him at her service and murdered his siblings are vanquished, obliterated in the Light of the Son.

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><p>AN: Oy vey, this took for-freaking-ever. It's just that...well...Aslan is my favorite metaphor for Christ. C.S. Lewis did a brilliant job, and Narnia's something I grew up with. I was scared to write His dialogue...I felt it would be hard to capture that majesty. However, here it is and I hope that it's not too cheesy. I normally temper these sort of angsty or emotional moments with a splash of humor, but obviously that wouldn't have fit in here. So how is Aslan there? What are the other Pevensies doing? What does Edmund do now? Well, you'll find all that out in the epilogue. That won't take as long for me to write, hopefully. Thank you so much for reading and if you'd review, I'd be much oblidged!<p>

The Lion be with you! :D


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